


i think i might be lost (you think i might be lost too)

by pigeonanarchy



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hurt, M/M, Not A Fix-It, hurt/the possibility of comfort at some indeterminate point in the future, written after mag 174
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25046545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonanarchy/pseuds/pigeonanarchy
Summary: Jonah Magnus isn't there, when they arrive at the Panopticon.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	i think i might be lost (you think i might be lost too)

**Author's Note:**

> Im Stressed about the degree to which martin is not really showing concern for jons humanity  
> Like its great that martin has faith in jon!! But im Worried!!

The Panopticon has been growing on the horizon since they left the cabin, and by now it looms over them. They’re finally here, Martin thinks. They can fix this. He turns to talk to Jon and blinks, realizing that Jon isn’t next to him. His panic doesn’t last very long, thankfully, as he realizes that Jon stopped a couple steps before Martin did.

“Jon?” He asks.

Jon blinks, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I’m… we’re here. This is m- this is the Eye’s domain, as much as the Eye can be said to have a smaller domain just for it, in this world.”

“And you’re stopping because…?”

“I don’t think we should keep going.” Jon is still gazing up at the Panopticon, still in the same position he stopped in. His expression doesn’t even change as he says this.

“ _What?_ Jon, we can’t- we have to _stop_ all this! We can’t just _give up!_ ”

“I- it’s not- ” he closes his eyes with a shudder, turning his face down and away from the Panopticon. “I don’t think… I don’t think that going here will make things better. I’m just… I’m worried that continuing forward will make _me_ worse. It might… already be…”

Martin reaches out to take his hand. Jon worries so much about his humanity, as if Jon was in danger of becoming some sort of evil monster. Sure, he wasn’t entirely human anymore, but he was, to his very core, a good person. Martin had faith in that fact. That he worried so much and cared so completely showed that, even if it could get a bit irritating. Martin knew he could be a bit impatient, but in his defense, they were trying to _undo_ the _apocalypse._

“It isn’t, Jon. You’re not… you _aren’t_ getting worse, and I won’t _let_ you get worse. We can do this, okay? Now, can we _please_ go kill Jonah?”

“I- ” Jon sighs. “Okay.”

-

The Panopticon is no longer on the horizon. It’s finally closer than that, close enough that they can make out where the base meets the ground. Maybe they’ll be able to do something soon, something to actually _help_ all the people trapped in their various nightmares.

“Jon, slow down.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t… didn’t notice. It’s… hard, here.”

“Do you need to… vent, or something? It’s not like time matters, right? If you need to take a break- ”

“Ah, no, actually. I… don’t think so. I think focusing on the Eye like that would be… dangerous.”

“But you’ll still be able to kill Jonah, right?” Martin stops walking entirely to look him in the eyes.

Jon winces. “I’m honestly not sure. We’re both of the Eye, after all. I’ll do what I can, though.”

“That’s not great,” Martin says, then shakes his head. “No, there’s not really anything you can do about that. Let’s just go.”

Jon pauses, taking a breath. “Okay. Let’s go.”

-

Their steps echo through the great, empty room that is the ground floor of the Panopticon. All there really is, besides the two of them, are the stairs on the other side of the room, reaching up past the cavernous ceiling high above them.

“Jon, this will work, won’t it?”

Martin doesn’t think he’s ever seen Jon look so tired, which is really saying quite a lot.

“... I don’t know what you want me to say, Martin. It _could_ help, I guess. I don’t know. I _still_ don’t know.” Jon gestures towards the stairs. “Are we going?”

“Of course! We have to try!”

Jon smiles at him - it’s a small smile, but it’s a smile.

-

They’ve climbed so many flights of stairs. Martin knows time and space don’t quite work right, now, but this is honestly getting ridiculous. All the floors so far have been empty, too. What’s the point? It’s a waste of space, in Martin’s opinion.

“It’s not wasted, so much as it is waiting. This place is meant to store knowledge, but it stands empty with no curator.” Jon doesn’t slow as he says this, barely even looking aware of the words he’s saying.

“Jon, we’ve talked about this. _Don’t_ read my mind.”

“Did I?” Jon asks distantly.

Martin pulls on his hand to get him to stop walking up the stairs. “Jon.”

Jon shakes himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… It’s just hard. I’ll do better.”

“Do that.”

They keep walking.

-

The top floor is as empty as all the other floors had been. Jonah Magnus is nowhere to be seen. The only differences between this floor and all the prior floors are that there are no more stairs leading up, and the walls are all windows. Martin feels like, if he looked out the windows, he could see anywhere in the world, regardless of his eyesight.

Jon’s grip on his hand had been getting tighter and tighter as they climbed the stairs, and it’s now so tight Martin would be worried about his circulation, if that were still something that could pose a problem in the apocalypse.

“Where’s Jonah?” Martin asks. “Is this- is this a _trap?_ ”

Jon’s hand is shaking in his, Martin notices. “Martin, I need- I need to leave, we need to- ”

“Wh- what is it?”

“It’s- I can’t- ”

“Jon?”

Jon looks at him with a clarity and calmness that is unnerving compared to his shaky panic just moments earlier. “Jonah Magnus is dead. There’s nothing for you here. Please, Martin. Go.”

“I- _what?!_ What are you _talking_ about?”

“I don’t think I _could_ leave, even if I wanted to.” A flicker of panic darts over Jon’s face. “Martin, please, _leave._ ”

As quickly as it came, the panic is gone, and Jon is gazing around the Panopticon with an expression that looks like awe.

“Jonah Magnus had a great many fears in his life, but his greatest fear had always been being vulnerable. Being known.”

Martin wants desperately to chalk Jon’s actions up to his needing to vent. Jon will vent about whatever torture Jonah Magnus landed himself in his own apocalypse, and then they’ll leave and go try to find a different way to fix this.

As Jon talks on about Jonah and how, no matter how important he thought he was, he ended up a victim of his own disaster, though, Martin knows that isn’t actually what any of that was. There is every chance that they should have stopped earlier, that keeping himself together was in fact too difficult for Jon, that he left Jon to deal with too much weight on his own.

Jon pauses, just for a second, and Martin thinks that maybe, _maybe,_ that was it and they’ll be able to figure something out now. Maybe they won’t be able to leave the Panopticon, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t try to figure something out anyways. _Surely_ there’s something they can do.

When Jon looks at him, and he is Known but not recognized or understood, Martin feels like his heart stops.

When Jon speaks, Martin thinks that if this is heartbreak, he’s never really felt sad before in his life by comparison.

“Martin Blackwood is scared,” Jon begins.


End file.
